CYRA: Experiment 13
by wallflowerdoesntevencoverit
Summary: It's been years since the Avengers have needed to get together. They even had kids of their own, training to become the Next Avengers and take their place. One day a mysterious girl with uncontrollable powers shows up in hopes they can help her control her dangerous other half.(RATED T FOR VIOLENCE)


MAINE- the parker and jones medical/science discovery center

May 25th 2020

Test Subject: 13

Test subject thirteen stood in the center of the white room. The lights were blinding. 13 looked

to the left and to the right. Straight ahead was a class mirror, one she knew to be a window. She

knew there were cold calculating eyes on the other end, studying her every move. She breathed

deeply. They probably wrote that down. They wrote everything down.

'KILL' she clutched her head and tugged at her hair.

'I can't, that's bad. Very bad. Killing isn't the answer. We've discussed this before.' she tried to

reason with it. It was quite persistent, but she was too weak to do anything about it. She hadn't

eaten in three days due to some testing, so she had no energy to be doing anything really.

'Let me out to play, I'll deal with them for you.' it was louder this time. God, her head hurt. She

whimpered at the pain thumping behind her skull.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Her mantra was interrupted by a man in a white lab coat, a man she knew to be her father.

"Cyra, how are you feeling? Anything different today? Any improvements?" To anyone else his

voice would have sounded cold, but Cyra this was his way of showing he cared. He was trying

to fix his mistake, he really was, but you can't fix everything.

"No, father. No improvements, if anything I'd say it's worse. It's so loud dad. Make it stop." She

grabbed his lab coat with a great force. A strength that was not hers. She growled slightly and

Mr. Parker ripped his arm from her grasp. He knew what was happening. It hadn't happened in

nearly a year, but he was always prepared for another incident. He reached for his walkie talkie,

strapping his half conscious daughter to the medical bed she was laying on, avoiding her hands

reaching out to tear his flesh apart. 

"We have a code seven, ready the gas." He said into the small device as he exited the room.

The door sealed shut as 'it' growled louder. The sound would change, the screams of his fifteen

year old daughter then to the growl of the creature inside of her, then back again. Back and forth

like a mad child. The team of medical officers and scientists released a type of knockout gas

designed to put the 'monster' to sleep. It always worked, but this time it was different. The

monster wasn't sleeping. Could it have.. Oh god, Could it have built up an immunity to the gas?

This quickly? They'd only used it ten times in the past five years how could it, no, this wasn't

possible. Mr. Parker thought to himself. 

Suddenly, with a sickening snap, his daughter, no that thing broke both of its arms and legs to

pull itself out of its restraints. It rolled off onto the ground as its bones snapped back into place

as if nothing had happened to maim them in the first place. It pulled itself up and stared at the

mirror. It walked closer to the bullet proof glass in the front of the room. It knew this wasn't a

mirror and it could practically smell the fear on the men on the other side of the glass. To their

surprise, it didn't attempt to break the glass or escape. 

It tilted its head slightly to the right and gave them a sickening grim; one a predator would give

its prey before it pounced and sunk its teeth into the sweet flesh of the unlucky creature

opposite form it. It let out a slight growl that probably meant something along the lines of 'you

look absolutely delectable today homo sapiens.' The men and women on the other side ran for

the door pulled their guns from their holsters in an attempt to protect themselves as the creature

moved to the exit, ripping the steel door open enough to escape. The humans on the other side

screamed bloody murder as the creature reached for the throat of the nearest human, violently

ripping the trachea from its proper position as the screams of said man ceased and his head

made a stomach-churning smack against the concrete floors as the creature shoved him down,

satisfied with its first kill. It grinned in satisfaction as it watched the humans scrambled to

escape the enclosed space. Most had gotten away in the mere seconds it took to send the first

man down, but there was one woman who hadn't quite made it out the steel door. That was her

fault. She was ferociously yanked backward. Screams erupted from her small mouth as her hair

was pulled from its scalp, but her trachea shut her up. 

Bloody fingers ran across the hallway as the creature made its way out of the building. It almost

made it out when the sound of a bullet shot through the air, grazing the shoulder of the creature,

just enough to cause blood to drip. Angered, it turned and saw a woman holding a gun in her

shaking hands. She was frozen in fear and the malicious creature smiled at this. The woman's

finger hit the trigger again and the monster prepared to move, but nothing shot out the other

end. The gun was empty. A sound erupted from the mouth of the creature, a mixture between a

growl and a cackle. Before the woman had a chance to turn and run the creature pounced onto

the woman, her back toward the creature as she hit the floor. She struggled as it grabbed the

small woman's right arm, twisting it all the way back as she screamed and ripped the limp form

her body as she screamed louder. Annoyed with the sound, it once again removed the trachea

from the human as swiftly as inhumanly possible. Oh how fun this was, to finally be free, let off

the leash the frail human kept her on for the long, dreadful five years it had been alive. Oh yes,

this, this right here, was a feeling that went unparalleled. Freedom. Hah. 

'STOP! YOU HAVE TO STOP!' Cyra was screaming in her head while the monster, her

monster, was on an extremely violent killing spree. Cyra could see everything. She could hear

their screams for mercy, but she wasn't strong enough to fight it. Not yet. The beast was trying

to push the girl's screams out of it's head. How annoying she was, trying to fight back, but to no

avail. 

'STOP IT! LEAVE! GET AWAY FROM THEM!' Cyra did her best to shut down the evil being and

return to her normal self. Neither of them were very strong at the moment and with more

pressing, the demon decided it needed rest anyway, three perfect kills was satisfying enough in

this condition, so she let Cyra return to her body. 

Run. Cyra needed to run. She had to get away from this. Whatever it took.

So, she ran. North. As far as she could get without stopping. She took buses and subways,

bikes and rides from kind strangers. SHe did what she had to do. It had been two months and

still no incidents. She was thankful. She had been spending her nights studying psychology and

figured her failed experiment half was similar to that of a multi personality disorder, only a lot

more violent. She spent her days earning some cash from the kind old lady who ran a small

bookstore in Toronto. Whatever she was doing, she was always busy. 

"Cyra honey, you're shift is over, you can go home for the night. Don't worry I'll lock up." THe

older woman smiled at Cyra. Donna, the woman who ran the small bookstore was probably

around the age of fifty and had a big heart when it came to Cyra. She reminded her of her

daughter who was out fighting for her her country somewhere in Afghanistan or Iraq. SHe had

trouble remembering, but Cyra was a lot like her. Quiet, but sweet and with a seemingly

mysterious side to her. 

"Thanks Donna. I'll come in early tomorrow." Cyra said, thankful she was being sent home a

little earlier than usual. She had a pounding headache from the coffee bean grinder in the back

of the bookstore and needed some time to think about her life. She left the warm store, bell

ringing as she went, as she made her way to a path in the forest a little ways off. 

She was training her brain. Working. Train, work. Train, work. She had to do what she could to

control herself. She had to control her frustration at rude people, she had to avoid accidentally

getting hurt or any strong emotions. These had all set her off before and she just couldn't have

another accident, especially after Maine, how dreadful that had been, and the nightmare, god,

the nightmares from it. Reliving it all. To put it simply, it made her want to smash her brains in or

gouge her eyes out of their sockets. Either would suffice, but that would probably set her off too.

She abandoned those thoughts and continued her trek through a small forest area to a cabin

she had found abandoned and fixed it up. She was lucky. Cyra laughed at the thought, her-

lucky? Yeah. sure. Lucky, to have no mother. Lucky, to have a tumor eating her brain at age

ten. Oh yeah, don't forget this one. Lucky to have a homicidal monster sharing a body with her.

Definitely lucky. Ugh. 

She plopped herself on the mattress that layed in the corner of the one room in the small cabin.

There was no box spring under it, which made it all the more rolled onto her

back so she could breathe properly. She closed her eyes. It had been two months she had been

here, working for Donna and staying in this small rundown cabin. Two months since she had

murdered three mostly innocent people. Two months and she was still here. This wasn't part of

her plan. She had decided she would only stay for about a month till she had saved up some

cash and then she would made her way to New York. New York sounded rather specific. Why

New York? It was her one chance. 

The experiment that made her this way was roughly based of Bruce Banner's super soldier

attempt. That sounds rather horrible. Who would deliberately turn their daughter into a Hulk

remake? THat wasn't it though. Bruce Banner had successfully created another part of himself

that protected him. That had been years ago. Doctor Banner had to be in his fifties by now and

all the avengers probably had mini avengers running around the big building by noe. It had been

so long ago, before her birth even when Ultron had attacked them. No matter how long ago

though, there was no way he forgot about the experiment that probably ruined his life and

turned him into a giant green rage monster. Who could forget that? Her dad thought he could

change a few things about the serum and find a way to create a second brain and personality

for her. When she found out she had a tumor, her dad set to work and by the time she was ten,

he had finished it or so he thought. Little did he know he would accidentally turn his daughter

into an unstable freak. She didn't blame him though, he just didn't want her to die so young and

she had to be thankful for that fact. 

She had lied to Donna. She wouldn't come in tomorrow. Not the next day, and not ever. She

was leaving tonight. 

"I'll come back Donna, when i'm fixed. I promise." she whispered to the cool night air

surrounding her. She hopped up and grabbed some clothes from her bag. Black cargo pants, a

dark green tank and a black jacket, sipping it all the way up. She shoved her curly,jet- black hair

into a tight, military-style bun and shoved her beanie over it, leaving her side bangs to

strategically cover her left eye to avoid unnecessary questions pertaining to the color of said

eye. Lastly, she pulled her combat boots and fingerless gloves on. Stealth mode. It's not like

she was robbing a bank or anything, she just felt invisible and hidden in black. It gave off a

'don't talk to me' kind of look and it made her comfortable. It helped her feel safe.

She gave herself a onceover in the mirror before leaving. She looked so much different than the ten year

old who thought she was going to die nearly eight years ago. She was eighteen now and all

grown up. Her tan skin was lighter due to it being winter. She was mixed and had the tan

complexion and curly black hair to match. Her right eye was a normal hazel color, the one she

had been born with. Her other, her left one, was strikingly different. Blood red. It had been that

way ever since she was ten and her father tried to save her. It was a side effect she wasn't find

of. Sure, it wasn't nearly as bad as having the second half, but she thought it made her look

scary and unnatural. Sighing, she let her bangs fall back over the eery eye pigment and

grabbed her backpack filled with necessities to sneak back into America. This could be fun,

right?


End file.
